December Sixth
by NothingButTrouble
Summary: December 6, 1917. The day Finland achieved independence from Russia. You would think this would be a day of contention between them, but somehow it's just the opposite.


Alright, this is just a submission for round zero of the Hetalia Fanfiction Contest. I was a little rushed when writing it, so if any mistakes are made... you know the drill. I've already found a few, so I went back and edited. You know how it is.

Oh, and I have no claim to Axis Powers Hetalia, its characters, its merchandise, et cetera. All that belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya and/or FUNimation.

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><p>Russia strode down the streets of Helsinki, looking for all the world like a boy attending a birthday party. Though his face was set in its default smile, polite and unnerving as always, there was a definite brightness to his eyes and a pronounced spring in his step.<p>

After all, it was December sixth. Finland's birthday. One might think that December sixth would have unpleasant connotations for Russia, seeing how it was the day Finland became independent from him, but that was not the case. It had been nearly a century now. That, coupled with the fact that this was _Finland_ he was thinking about, was reason enough for Russia to be amiable.

At least, Russia assured himself that it was, as he shuffled along the side of the road. He was careful to not step too near the curb; it had snowed recently and he didn't want wet socks to dampen his spirits on this day, of all days. The cold didn't bother him much, but soaked shoes were uncomfortable no matter what the temperature.

Russia continued onward until he came to a crosswalk. He stopped, pondering which path to take. He could keep going straight until he arrived at Finland's house, of course. That was his destination and he had gone there every December sixth for so long that he knew the route by heart. But on the other hand, a quick detour into town couldn't hurt, and perhaps it would be nice to get Finland a gift? It _was_ his birthday, after all.

A quick foray into his wallet proved that yes, he had some spare change, so across the street Russia went.

Having made his decision, he was immediately confronted with the problem of what to get Finland. He knew that his friend had a winter job as Santa Claus, so no trinkets or toys would do. He doubted there were any interesting books out now that Finland didn't already have, though he could always do a more thorough investigation and maybe turn one up before Christmas rolled around. And he didn't have the ability to give Tino more hours in the day, which was what Tino always wished for during the Christmas season.

His eyes alighted on a nearby coffee shop, and his perfunctory smile widened. Coffee was simple. It was warm in cold temperatures, a welcome gift. It had caffeine, which Tino would surely appreciate. And it was useful. It served a purpose. Without a word (which was probably for the best, seeing as he was alone), he turned and entered the coffee shop.

Russia blinked once at the sudden temperature change. He adjusted his scarf but didn't take it off, unsurprisingly, as he got at the back of the line. The line advanced and doubts began to race through his mind, only increasing in number as he continued forward. _What if Tino doesn't like coffee anymore? Or if he's trying to catch sleep before Christmas preparation comes in earnest? Or if he's on some sort of Christmas fast, oh why didn't I read up on Finnish fasting rules before coming over here, he's going to despise me, and-_

The lady at the counter beckoned him forward and he acquiesced, squinting at the list of specials. _Oh god, what if they were too bland? What if he didn't get Tino enough?_

All too late, he remembered that he'd neglected to learn more than the basics of Finnish… he could say hello, maybe ask for directions, but decipher between types of coffee? There was no way.

Helpless and out of options, he began toying with his scarf. "The one that is special," he informed the bored barista in broken Finnish. "I want… three big ones." She arched an eyebrow, scribbled down his order, and told him (in perfect Finnish, no less) to wait for his number to be called.

Eight minutes later, Russia walked out of the small coffee shop, balancing three extra-large Styrofoam cups of coffee.

Ten harrowing minutes later, in which he almost dropped the cups twice and was nearly hit by a car, he arrived at Tino's doorstep. Russia closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a second. It wasn't as if Finland was going to reject him. This had been their thing for what, ninety years now? Ninety-five? If Finland was liable to take offense at what Russia tended to say and do, he would have halted communications a long time ago. Bracing himself, Russia shifted the three beverage containers to the crook of his arm and rapped his gloved knuckles on the door once.

His knock was immediately followed by what felt like several minutes of silence (but was in reality only ten seconds). Russia's palms grew tingly under his gloves, and if he hadn't been balancing three extra large coffees he would have probably strangled himself by means of fiddling with his scarf. His mind began to supply reasons why Tino wasn't answering the door, each scenario worse than the last. He was starting to consider ringing again or maybe just leaving altogether when he heard the sound of sliding, followed by a series of muffled thuds.

"Who is it?" a voice- _Tino's_ voice- sang out from behind the closed door. Russia felt his previously faltering smile return to his face in full force.

"Just me," he replied. "And I brought caffeinated beverages, so let me in."

There was a moment's hesitation as Tino fiddled with the lock before the door swung open. And there stood Tino in all of his glory- his face split in two by a wide grin, his hair rucked up and unbrushed, his lively eyes accentuated by the shadows beneath them. There were worn socks on his feet and he was wearing what was undoubtedly a Christmas sweater, no surprise there.

His eyes, already wide with _something_, widened more when he saw the coffees. "Well gosh, Russia, that's a ton of coffee! That's enough for an entire week's caffeine fix, you know?"

Russia extended his arms, offering the cups to Finland. "Yes, I know. I figured you might need the energy. You're usually rather busy this time of year."

Finland laughed a little. "Am I ever! You don't know the half of it. You do not _even_ know the half of it."

"Then how about you tell me?" Russia asked, still holding the three coffee cups.

"Well, I will then," Finland replied. "Come on in, don't freeze to death out there." Neither of them really felt cold, but still Russia acquiesced, stepping inside Finland's cozy abode.

From there on out, things went as they generally did on each December sixth at Finland's house. Finland immediately began proposing ideas. Video games were dropped as a subject entirely when Finland suggested a first person shooter, and Russia adamantly declared that that would only happen if Finland played Tetris against him. Finland then brought up skiing ("for old time's sake," he insisted) which Russia flatly refused. More ideas bounced back and forth until they finally chose to build snowmen. It was safe enough, they decided.

Finland almost ran out of the house, skidding several times in his socked feet. The door banged against the wall as he darted outside, not wearing boots or mittens or even a coat. Russia looked on in amusement. "I will be right along," he called after the other's retreating back.

He placed the three coffees on the coffee table. _How appropriate, _he thought. He double-checked to make sure the coffees weren't in danger of spilling onto any of the nearby governmental paperwork (that Finland was obviously ignoring) before following his host right on out into the snow that he had been trying so hard to avoid just hours earlier.

Like every other December sixth, Finland and Russia spent the day with each other at Finland's house. And, like every other December sixth at Finland's house, it was chilly and snowy and they both ended up with snow stuffed down their shirts.

Russia enjoyed every minute of it.


End file.
